


watching the fire as we grow

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Cabin Fic, Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fire, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Holding Hands, Huddling For Warmth, Male-Female Friendship, Soulmates, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 14:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: Daisy and Coulson are trapped together in a snowstorm. Title from the song "Mushaboom" by Feist.





	watching the fire as we grow

Little plants are set in the cottage windowsill, bright green roots visible through the glass. Sun touches it through the pane, illuminating it, even though everything else around them is cold and frozen.

It's a little bit of magic, and it suits her mood at the moment. She hears him shuffling around behind her after the front door slams shut, stamping his shoes.

"You didn't have to get that," she chides him, moving towards the kitchen table as he sets her bag down on it with his.

His nose is bright pink and so are the tips of his ears, and he looks tired. "Let's get a fire started," he pleads, looking around the small house, staying in motion to fight off the cold.

"I guess we didn't beat the weather this time," she smiles, opening the entry closet and finding an old quilted blanket folded up there.

He seems to relax when she puts it on his shoulders, and pats it in place, slowing down until he wraps it tighter around himself, giving her a grateful look.

"I'll get it started," she assures him, bending down to get the logs from beside the fireplace and checking them then placing them inside.

"I can't believe you're not cold," he tells her, getting the matches off the mantle and handing them down to her, shivering a bit. "I think there's a draft."

They're supposed to be here on business. Discussions with the government involving Inhumans and humans rights issues, trying to build a coalition to move things forward after they've stalled out.

And now that an Inhuman is Director of SHIELD, it provided the kind of momentum to get the conversation in play again. (They're also here to spy on people who don't want to participate in the conversation.)

But at the moment, they're trapped in this cottage and things have ground to a halt due to weather conditions. The metro isn't even running and their meetings are pushed back.

She tries a few times unsuccessfully and then manages to get a tiny spark going, as Coulson bends down unexpectedly and wraps half of the blanket around her shoulders.

"I don't believe you," he mutters, as she moves from a crouch to sit in front of the growing flames and he joins her, their shoulders touching. His does feel cold, like he's radiating it, still, so she slides closer, and draws the quilt in tighter.

He starts to settle against her and shiver less, and she takes his hand and touches her fingers to it, the noticeable cold to her warmth, and squeezes his hand in hers until his fingers feel warm.

His boots are starting to drip on the wood flooring from the snow melting off them, and they both watch until he confesses he's still too cold to take them off. The fire starts to crackle as it rises.

She thinks about how the consequence of time has become pressing and inconsequential now. And how collecting little moments, like this, are what she wants more of. To build the future.

He crooks his head to look around the room, up at the ceiling beams and the quaint furniture. "I guess we should be lucky these aristocratic types like to do it in the country."

His eyes meet hers after a moment, as he waits for his joke to land, that particular expression he makes when he thinks he's being funny.

"Why is that?" she asks, with a tilt of her head, pressing her lips together.

"We get to slow down. Have a moment to ourselves. It doesn't happen very often," he tells her with a raise of his eyebrows, his voice gone soft.

They hold eye contact for as long as she can manage and then ducks her head to set it on top of his shoulder, sighing against it, his fingers squeezing hers.

The water from his boots is almost gone now from the warmth of the fire, and he bends his knee up to unlace the boot with one hand, toeing it off with the other.

It is warm now. A little too warm despite the safety of the crook of his neck and how he's still trying to shed his outer layers without breaking their contact.

She breathes him in and then pulls back, letting the blanket slip off and twisting to pull off her own jacket, one arm at a time when she sees he's watching her, paused as she wrestles with the jacket.

HIs own is in his hands and the light from the fire is moving across his eyes. He does look tired, but he's alive. And he's by her side.

They've had lots of conversations on the base, with the team, even in the office late at night talking about missions since she took the position.

This is the first time that they've been alone like this in a very long time. And she doesn't know if it's the heat from the fire, or the realization that there is something here that has never been named and needs to be.

The jacket gets tossed on the couch behind them, and she reaches for his arm again, tentatively running her fingers across his knuckles, then up past his wrist to the exposed hairs on his arm, then the soft navy sweater.

He looks up at her with such a hopeful, surprised expression that the corner of her mouth curls up and she just shakes her head at him.

"You know, I have to careful about this stuff," she tells him. "Fraternizing."

She lets go of him, and his whole body moves in closer, almost hovering, and his eyes make her want to go weak. She's never had anyone look at her like that.

Then he kisses her, and it's with such conviction, so much underneath it, kissing her like he's trying to speak to her, communicate everything in a way they never had before.

It leaves her breathless, and he has to pull back to catch his own, but it's not enough and more than she expected and she knows what to name this. She knows she wants this.

Kissing him down to the floor, he lets her move over him, opening him up, anchoring his hands on her hips, as she kisses him possessively, feeling his groans move through her mouth and tingle down her spine until it settles lower, a different kind of heat.

She stops for a moment, thinking about her joke from before. But it's true. He's an agent, even if he's the former Director.

"Are you sure?"

He nods first, like he can't find the words just yet, then breathes out the word, "Yes!" impatiently, then watches her hands as they start to take his belt apart, as she gets his cock free and starts to slide her palm over it, letting him pull her into a kiss.

"Not yet," he whispers to her. "Please."

Sitting back, she and looks at him in front of her, so uncharacteristically messy and exposed, his skin flickering in the light. She helps pull him up to sit beside her, as he kisses her again, more slowly this time, touching his fingers to her face, then her shoulder, to her breast.

His hips are naked and her fingers curve around the indents at the corner, as he pauses from kissing her to make eye contact, his fingers on the button of her jeans as she thrusts towards him, and he undoes them and traces his fingers over her stomach, she can see the same flicker of fire across her skin.

She's had other lovers before, she always felt so guilty about giving up control, that they would discover that something about her would never be enough, but the way that he looks at her. As he kisses inside her thigh, as he peels the jeans down her legs, she knows that she won't have to hide.

His finger pushes inside of her as he kisses her thigh against, then makes circles around her clit with his tongue, then adds another finger and it's exactly enough to make her think about more, and all of the more.

There will be so much more.

She comes and laughs at the pleasant thought of it, and lets go of her fingers tight around his hair as he kisses along her legs and slips his fingers out as she tugs her sweater off, sweating inside of it, then pulls him up towards her and moves her hand over his cock again.

He pushes up into her hand with his hips, then buries his face against her shoulder, trying to hold on until she digs her nails into his ass with her free hand and he comes loudly, as she covers her mouth with his, pressing kisses back between stuttering breaths.

"I might need a few more tries before I get that right," he laughs, sounding so light.

She kisses him and he rolls onto the other side of her, as they lay in front of the raging fire, their hands slip down to link together.

The whole house seems filled with the fire light.


End file.
